Living Memory
by xanaphorax
Summary: Molly imagined most people who had a 1.5 inch scar across their neck probably had a story to tell about how they got it. She also guessed that their story was probably not a happy one. Only, Molly can't remember how she received her scar or anything else from that month of her life. And she doesn't want to...until she meets a stranger at a party with familiar blue eyes. Clint/OC


**(Chapter 1) Life A.H.**

 **Author's Note** :: _Welcome! This is a standalone+ stories. For readers just jumping into my stories, it has all the goodness of mystery and suspense as a standalone. For my returning readers, you'll enjoy the suspense + dramatic irony as it's officially a sequel to my story Parting Shot & a companion to Second Wind. Personally, I'm the kind of reader who hates starting with sequels, but since I'm one of those readers, I think you can trust me when I say this'll be good for everyone. As always, reviews are much appreciated because I write best when my ego is fully inflated (and also constructive criticism and feedback and what not). I hope you enjoy._

 _Midtown, New York City_

Molly McKay rarely at breakfast at home. She attributed this mostly to considerateness and partially to self-preservation. Waking up her roommate who was _not_ a morning person because she was stumbling around the kitchen at four thirty in the morning was not a risk she was willing to take. Especially when she could slip quietly out of the apartment, wait a few hours, and eat a breakfast she was actually awake enough to enjoy.

Although, if pressed, Molly would have to admit that this reason was partially bullshit. Molly still ate breakfasts out on the mornings when her roommate was sleeping over a "friend's" house. And sometimes she even left the apartment on her days off, when she got to sleep in until seven. Not to mention the fact that nine times out of ten she went to the same place even though it was an extra ten minutes out of her way. No, if she thought about it, really thought about it, Molly would have to say that she was driven out of her apartment and up 3rd Ave. by force of habit.

Going out to breakfast was the last remaining part of her life B.S.P. (Before the Stark Party). Back when she lived alone in Tudor City and her apartment kitchen was laughable. Back when things were routine and normal, and the only things she had to worry about was going to work, coming up with new cupcakes, and convincing Beth that her life was under control. Back before she had to schedule therapist visits and doctor's checkups.

So, as it was, Molly continued to spend her mornings being harassed by a perky blonde waitress who was well versed in all of the ways Molly lived her life wrong. Even though at least once a week, Molly considered staying home and risk facing the wrath of her tired roommate.

"Good morning," the waitress chirped, swooping down on Molly.

"Morning," Molly smiled politely back, continuing to peruse the menu as Beth placed two water glasses in front of Molly and then turned the coffee cup. She poured three quarters of a cup before stopping and putting the coffee pot back on the black tray she carried. This was part of their routine. As familiar as shutting off the TV whenever the news came on or adjusting a scarf to cover the ugly scar on her neck. It was a routine about to come to an end.

"Oh, I only need the one," Molly protested, attempting to hand back the extra glass of water.

Beth gave Molly a look. "You and I both know that it says one full glass of water with your pills, and I read online that if you _don't_ drink all of the water, it could keep the medicine from working properly and cause all sorts of other problems. Like this one woman in the comments—"

"No, I mean," Molly interrupted, already knowing the argument well. She had fought over the two glasses for the first six months A.H. (After Hospitalization) before she realized it was a lost cause. "My doctor took me off the medication. I'm officially cleared as healthy."

"If this is your way of trying to get me to let go of the fact that you're going to cater that Stark Expo after what happened _last_ time—"

"No," Molly sighed, memories of breakfast two days ago replaying in her head. She shuddered inwardly. "I went in for a checkup after the Ultron Incident, and apparently the results put my heart right in line with healthy patients. So, my doctor took me off."

Beth paused, tray in hand and staring skeptically down at Molly. "Well, I still think you shouldn't be going to the Expo," she commented, sweeping the extra glass of water away and putting it on her tray, some of the water sloshing over the edge. "Really, Molly. You just got cleared—do you want to risk it again?"

It was impressive how quickly Beth was able to take a complete 90 to 180 degree turn in a conversation. Had Molly not been coming here for close to five years, there was no way she would have been able to make sense of the waitress. That said, Beth still frequently left Molly feeling frustrated, but all things considered, Beth had been surprisingly helpful in the past couple of years. Molly wasn't surprised the news that she had been cleared wasn't altogether welcome.

It had been difficult at first for Beth right after Molly had first gotten out of the hospital. She had been absolutely fine with the idea of Molly having a heart issue—it was even more of a reason for her to push her heart smart and healthy living recommendations on Molly. It was the zero talking about the Avengers that caused her the most trouble.

There were many things about Beth that made her… _unique_. But perhaps aside from her drive to make everyone in the world the lifestyle blog version of themselves, the most interesting thing about Beth was the fact that she ran _O, Captain! My Captain!:_ The World's Premier Site for All Things Captain America. It had taken a couple of weeks of repeated reminders that Molly was specifically instructed to avoid all Avengers talk for the sake of her heart before Beth had stopped giving—"Just a small fun fact about this _super cool guy_." And then something seemed to click, and Beth burdened herself with the plight to make sure that _no one_ spoke about the Avengers in the vicinity of Molly.

This had led to many colorful moments at breakfast.

For instance, the time when Beth snatched a newspaper out of a patron's hand because "a photograph of that SHIELD building in D.C. is right in Molly's line of sight—and if she sees that she could have a heart attack. Do you _want_ that on your conscience, sir?" Or even better, the time when she led a chorus of waitresses in a dramatic rendition of "Happy Birthday" to drown out the sound of girls at the next table playing, Marry, Bang, or Kill with the Avengers. The joy of warding Molly off from all "potentially stressful" conversations seemed to have eased the pain of the gag order.

Molly took a breath in, "Well, Monarch was hired, and seeing as I'm in charge—"

"Exactly!" Beth interrupted. "You're the boss. Just order someone else to take care of it. Like that one girl with the bad attitude."

"Saoirse doesn't work at Monarch anymore," Molly corrected. While she didn't remember ever introducing the two, both girls had _a lot_ to say about each other and the one fateful breakfast where Molly had introduced them. For the life of her, Molly couldn't even fathom why she would ever think that was a good idea. "She's the one who hired us to the event. But this event is too big to pass off to someone else. It needs to go well. Plus, I've been assured that there will be no Avengers there."

"No Avengers? What's the point of even going then?" Beth's nose crinkled in distaste.

"For the science," Molly suggested.

Beth scoffed. "No one goes to anything for _science_." She paused to let the sentence sink in before shaking her head at Molly. "Well, can I get you some heart friendly oatmeal before you go out and give yourself a heart attack tonight?"

"That'd be great," Molly smiled.

 _Monarch Bakery in Murray Hill, New York City_

The bell over the door at Monarch Bakery tinkled in greeting. Molly didn't bother looking up from where she was bent over, replacing cupcakes in the case.

"Good morning," Trina greeted from where she stood at the cash register. Molly could hear Trina's excitement in the way she practically sang the words—it could only be one person.

"Does 1:00 still count as morning?" His deep voice always seemed to sound amused. At least, whenever he was in Monarch.

"Sure," Trina shrugged. "If you're up all night." Molly rolled her eyes at cashier's attempt at flirting.

"Hi, Molly," he greeted. Molly bit the inside of her lip to keep from smiling as she stood up from the case.

"Hi, Jordan." He was grinning as he looked her up and down. Molly did the same. He wore his characteristic dark button up shirt with dark dress pants. This time the shirt was a deep navy, the sleeves rolled up to reveal muscular forearms. His black hair was gelled up in the front as usual, which Molly always thought was interesting considering the fact that he consistently had varying amounts of stubble—as if he couldn't be bothered to shave. "Shouldn't you be at work?"

"Why? Aren't you happy to see me?" he asked, his hooded, brown eyes crinkling at the edges.

"Depends. Are you here to buy something or harass the staff?"

"Harass? Do I harass you, Trina?" He asked, looking at the twenty-something who was leaning on the counter watching the exchange.

"Never," Trina shook her head. Molly rolled her eyes. The door bell tinkled again as another customer entered the building.

"See? Not here to harass."

"Of course not," Molly sighed, walking behind Trina to pick up another box of cupcakes to continue restocking.

"I came to drop off your ticket for tonight," he announced, producing something that looked like an old-fashioned carnival ticket. STARK EXPO 2015 was written in large letters across it. Molly raised an eyebrow.

"I don't need a ticket."

"You want to get in, don't you? Not really a date if you're outside, and I'm inside," he teased, holding out the ticket to her.

"What date?" Molly asked, both hands still firmly on the box of cupcakes. "I said no."

"No, you said—and correct me if I get this wrong, Trina—'I don't think I can go to the Expo.'"

"That _is_ what you said," Trina affirmed. Molly glared at her, flushing red.

"I took that as, 'I need a break, and I don't have major objections to spending time with you specifically'—"

"Despite all of my other refusals," Molly interjected.

"Every day is a new day, Molly," Jordan dismissed. "And today is the day I take you out."

"Can you really take her out if she's already going to be there?" a new voice broke into the conversation. The group of three turned to look at the person who had entered the shop. A short, blonde girl wearing a sleek black business dress stood by the door, a mischievous smile on her face. Molly's heart sunk as she took in the sight of her roommate. There was no way she was going to get out of this now.

"Already going to be there?" Jordan repeated, looking back to Molly.

"Monarch's working the event, and I assume the Head of Catering will be the early to set up," the blonde walked forwards towards the rest of the group.

"She's forgetting the fact that I'm there to _work_ ," Molly looked over at Jordan. "Not to date."

"That's what she thinks," her roommate whispered conspiratorially to Jordan.

"So, I'll swing by your tent around seven?" he raised his eyebrows.

"Sure, feel free to come by and _buy_ something."

He grinned, starting for the door. "I'll see you tonight Molly."

"Bye, Jordan."

"Bye, Jordan!" Trina echoed. He raised a hand and then took off down the street.

"Hi, Saoirse," Trina greeted.

" _That's_ Jordan?" Saoirse, asked, following his progress through the window. "You never mentioned how cute he was. I'd climb that motherfucker like a tree." Trina laughed, and Molly rolled her eyes.

"He's all yours," she shook her head.

"Oh please, you like him," Saoirse rolled her eyes. "She's _always_ talking about him at home. 'Jordan came in _again_ today. You'll never believe what Jordan tried today.'" Trina turned, grinning at Molly. Molly wasn't sure if she wanted to strangle Saoirse now to stop her from doing any more damage or later when there were no witnesses.

"I also talk about Beth all the time. I don't have a crush on her," Molly refuted.

"Well, obviously. No one in their right mind would crush on that bitch," Saoirse shrugged.

"Did you come in for a reason or just to tease me?"

"Remember back when you used to be quiet and nice to me?" Saoirse asked. "Back before they gave you that heart transplant?" It was an old joke, but one of Saoirse's favorites.

"Saoirse—" Molly started.

"I came to confirm the order and to make sure that someone other than you will be there to man the table."

"We have a shift rotation schedule," Trina informed.

"So technically she should be free to, oh, I don't know, go out on a date with a tall dark and handsome stranger who might walk by at seven o'clock?" Saoirse asked.

"I can't—"

"She'll be free," Trina cut her off.

"Great," Saoirse clapped her hands. "Besides, I have people you need to meet. Like Iris."

"Seriously, Saoirse—"

"Molly, you've been killing yourself during this trial boss period," Saoirse interrupted, leaving Molly more than a little upset at being unable to finish a sentence. "Part of the benefits of being the boss is that you get to relax. Besides, I want you to actually _enjoy_ this Stark event. You know, since the last one you were at sucked so bad."

This was a no win argument, meaning Molly only had one option left.

"Speaking of Stark events, how was your party last night?"

"That shit was _insane_ ," Saoirse lit up. "I mean it was the usual business party shit at the beginning, but fuck, Iris goes hard. I mean that bitch can party, even I can't keep up with her. At one point she got into a shots competition with the Avengers. Came in third."

"What place did you come in?" Molly asked.

"I was a little wrapped up with a cute investment banker, Quinn. Sorry I didn't warn you I wasn't coming back by the way."

Molly shrugged. Saoirse's phone began to buzz. She pulled it out and looked up quickly at Molly. "Sorry, it's Iris, I should take this and run. See you there tonight. Bye, Trina," Saoirse answered the phone. "Hey, what's up?" She waved as she left the store, leaving Molly alone with Trina.

A small silence enveloped both of the girls. "Excited for your date?" Trina asked. Molly rolled her eyes and sighed as Trina laughed out.


End file.
